


Mind Games

by Melina



Category: Highlander
Genre: M/M, hl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-09-14
Updated: 1998-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:42:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melina/pseuds/Melina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bet with a five thousand year old immortal is a really, really bad idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind Games

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the HLWC quote challenge. The quote is at the end of the story.

"God, MacLeod. Can't you ever make it through an entire movie without molesting me?" Methos asked, half-teasing, half-serious as they left the theater and began walking back toward the dojo. He checked his watch. "And this one was exactly eighty-eight minutes, not counting the trailers. Not like I was asking you to sit through "Gone With the Wind" or something."

"If we ever went to a decent movie, we might have a shot at it," Duncan replied. "But when you force me to sit through a piece of dreck like that...I need something to keep my brain occupied."

"For some strange reason, it didn't seem that your brain was the part of your anatomy in question," he said dryly. The fall evening had turned a bit chilly, and Methos pulled his coat closer around his body as they turned onto the dojo's block.

"Besides, you tricked me into seeing this movie by telling me an Academy Award winning actress was in it. You didn't bother telling me it starred one of those Asian action heroes."

"Well, I admit it wasn't up to his Hong Kong work, but it wasn't bad...and the co-star was an Academy Award winning actress." Methos smiled smugly. They walked for a few more minutes in silence before Methos said, "Let's face it, MacLeod. You just can't keep your hands off me."

MacLeod snorted, passing up the dojo's entry for the external staircase. "Yeah, right. I may not be of your advanced age, old man, but I do have more self-control than your average sixteen-year-old." He unlocked the door to the loft and went inside.

It was irresistible. Methos kicked the door closed behind them and had Duncan pinned against the wall before the Highlander had the chance to shed his coat. Methos slid one hand down Duncan's flank while positioning the other around the back of his neck, all the better to tilt his head perfectly for Methos' thorough exploration. His tongue tasted his lover's mouth, only meeting Duncan's for a moment before retreating to feast on hot, sensual lips, slowly and deliberately taking each between of his own in turn.

Duncan clasped him tightly around the waist, a low moan evidence of his near-instant desire. Their lips met again and again, tracing, tasting, demanding, and Methos could feel Duncan's quickened breath and growing erection under his own chest and hips as the Highlander's entire body began to betray his arousal. Methos reacted in turn, as always unable to hide his desire--his need--for Duncan. The Highlander's presence in both body and spirit had become as essential for the older Immortal as air or water. It was a passion that burned with the intensity of an entire city aflame, a passion that Methos did not ordinarily hesitate to display. He wanted Duncan to see his need, to let him know how much he was wanted and cherished and loved.

But not tonight. He pulled away and looked at his lover. Duncan's face was flushed, his lips red and swollen, his eyes dark and passionate. Methos grinned. "See, Highlander? I was right. Can't keep your hands off me."

"Me?" Duncan sputtered. "You attacked me, Methos." He reached for his lover, but Methos quickly slipped out of his grip, entering the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.

Methos didn't respond. He took a long sip of water, his tongue darting out to catch a stray drop from his lower lip. Duncan noticed. "You want anything, Duncan?" He shook his head, turning away to remove his coat. Methos smiled.

"I wonder, Highlander...if you'd love me if it weren't for my body. It could give a guy a complex, you know." His voice was light, teasing. Methos knew that it wasn't true, that the physical expression of passion was simply a part of Duncan's nature...as much as Honor and Loyalty and other good Boy Scout virtues. But they didn't teach hot, wet, sweaty, stay-up-all-night-and-fuck-your-brains-out-sex in the Boy Scouts. At least he hoped they didn't.

Duncan shot him a look as he finally removed and hung up his coat, then he sat on the sofa in front of the chess board. "Yeah, right. I just want you for your body," he said flatly.

"You think you can do without it for awhile, then?" Methos came out from behind the counter and leaned against it, his angular body posed carelessly, his grey henley as snug across his chest as his jeans were across his hips. "Want to play a little game, Duncan?"

Duncan looked up from the chess board. "What kind of game?"

Methos pushed away his conscience and his libido, which were both inquiring _what the hell are you doing? _before he replied, "Oh, I dunno..." he pretended to consider a moment. "I'll bet that you can't go twenty-four hours without touching me."

"Uh-huh. And what do I get if I win?"

"Me."

"I thought I already had that."

"Loser does what the winner wants...anything he wants, in bed or out, for the following twenty-four hours."

~~~~~~~

The thought of ordering Methos to do the dishes or the laundry was vaguely appealing, but such a contest seemed juvenile and somehow...lurid. Duncan shook his head. "Methos, no..."

"C'mon, MacLeod. Afraid you'll lose?" his lover taunted.

Duncan snorted. "Not hardly. I've survived more than a day without sex before, Methos."

"Then it should be easy, shouldn't it?"

Duncan knew that Methos was baiting him, trying to use his natural sense of competitiveness against him, but he shrugged inwardly and decided to go along with Methos' little scheme. Having Methos play slave for a day might even be fun.

"You aren't allowed to touch me either, right?" he inquired.

Methos nodded reassuringly. "Right. Neither of us is allowed to touch the other."

"Okay. Starting now?" He glanced at the clock--it was nearly midnight.

"Yup. Starting now. Good luck, Highlander." Methos said.

"To you too, old man."

~~~~~~~

_This was too easy,_ Duncan thought, stretching himself awake the next morning. They had crawled into bed the previous night shortly after their discussion, taking opposite sides of the king-sized bed. Duncan spooned his body around a spare pillow, so he wouldn't be tempted to reach for his lover during the night. The pillow was soft, but not nearly as warm and tempting and...he stopped himself.

He rolled out of bed quietly in an unnecessary attempt to avoid disturbing his lover. Unnecessary was putting it mildly, Duncan thought. Absent another approaching Immortal or a seven or above on the Richter scale, disturbing Methos before 8 a.m. was a difficult task. Duncan pulled on sweats and went down to the dojo for a workout.

When he returned an hour later, Methos was up and around, leaning against the counter and holding a cup of coffee.

And wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

_This is so obvious, don't you dare fall for it,_ he thought.

"Good morning, Highlander," Methos said casually.

"Good morning, Methos," he replied, trying to keep his voice casual. It came out slightly hoarse.

Methos smirked. "Coming down with something, Duncan?" he asked with a great show of concern.

Duncan shook his head. "No, just a frog in my throat," he answered, entering the kitchen to fetch a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

Methos joined Duncan on the kitchen side of the counter. As he opened the refrigerator, he looked over at his lover and smiled. "Frog, huh?" Without waiting for a response, he crouched down and peered inside as if seeking the answers to the mysteries of life in the depths of the appliance.

Duncan took the opportunity to escape the tempting proximity and returned to the safer side of the countertop. "Cut it out, Methos."

Methos retrieved a bagel and spread it liberally with strawberry jam before looking over at Duncan with an innocent expression. "Cut what out, MacLeod?"

"The mind games. Doing and saying things to make me think of sex." He turned his back against the counter island so he wouldn't have to watch the damp towel maintain its precarious hold around Methos' hips.

"Sex? Why would I want to make you think of sex?"

Duncan swallowed dryly, then took another sip of his water. Methos continued. "But now that you mention it...have I told you how unbelievably sexy you look after a workout?" He leaned across the counter, his face just inches from the back of Duncan's neck, close enough that he could feel Methos' breath stirring the air. "Your body all warm and flushed...the sweat dampening the hair on your arms and chest, around your neck...I can almost feel the endorphins seeping out of your pores, Duncan. Have I ever told you how much that turns me on?"

Duncan, almost transfixed by Methos' low, sexy voice in his ear, jerked his body away from the counter. "Forget it, Methos. It's not going to work. If you want to play mind games, that's fine, go ahead, I just won't listen..."

Methos sighed, apparently deflated. "Well, you can't blame a guy for trying, Mac. Let's just get about the day and see what happens, shall we?"

Duncan nodded, returning to the counter to fetch his water bottle. Just then, Methos took a bite of the jam-covered bagel. As he lifted it away from his mouth, a bit of the confection dropped off the bagel and onto his nose. He grimaced and reached for a napkin to wipe it off.

To Duncan, the calculated seduction attempts were not nearly as sexy as that bit of jam perched on the end of the aquiline nose. Unable to resist, he leaned across the counter and licked it off before he realized what he was doing.

Methos grinned.

Duncan's face reddened, and he lifted his chin to meet his lover's hot, predatory eyes.

"Oh, Duncan," Methos breathed, raking his eyes up and down the Highlander's muscled form. "You've never enjoyed winning a bet as much as you're going to enjoy the next twenty-four hours."

~end~

The quote:

"Yes dear I love you,

but sometimes I think that love's not

enough for you.

So you want to play mind games,

well that's fine, go ahead, la la la

I can't hear you."

\--Steven Page &amp; Ed Robertson from "Blame It On Me"


End file.
